Reviewing movies since 1984, online film critic since 1998. Here you will find a film essay or review, interviews, and a focus on certain trends in current Hollywood, and what's eclipsed in favor of something more mainstream.
Why this movie was not made a decade ago or longer I'll never know. "Dolemite is My Name" is the perfect comedic role for Eddie Murphy, based on the real-life comedian/filmmaker known as the Godfather of Rap, the late Rudy Ray Moore. This is a delectable match made in heaven and I am glad to say it is one of the best Eddie Murphy movies ever made. We can all now forget "Norbit" and his shortchanged role in "Tower Heist" - Eddie Murphy electrifies the screen and proves once again, with the right script and director, he can knock our socks off.
Set in the 1970's at the height of the blaxploitation era, Rudy Ray Moore (Murphy) wants to make his mark in the world, to showcase his talent beyond just making comedy records with "ghetto expressionism." He works at Dolphin's of Hollywood record store in L.A. and is consistently bothered by a homeless man named Rico who is a street-talking raconteur. Moore also works at a nightclub where his emcee standup barely causes a rift in between singing engagements. One day, Moore is inspired and takes notes while recording Rico's stories. Thus, at the local nightclub, Dolemite is born, a pimp who tells the audience all sorts of profanely (accent on the profane) funny rhymes, the kind you don't want to recite to grandma. Moore was always somewhat racy but this kind of profane humor mirrors Eddie Murphy's own rawer than raw days from 30 years ago.
But the story does not end there - Moore wants to make a Dolemite movie with boobs, action, violence and kung-fu. Rather than the straight "Shaft" movies or the various blaxploitation efforts by cigar-chomping Fred Williamson, he wants to play it for laughs, procuring a local playwright of serious drama to pen the script, Jerry Jones (Keegan-Michael Key). Ray knows zilch about directing and eventually gets D'Urville Martin (Wesley Snipes) to direct - a filmmaker known for having appeared as an elevator operator in "Rosemary's Baby." To say D'Urville is reluctant to take part in an amateur flick is to be polite - he resents being there and hates the script. Clearly, the film is done for laughs to the point that a raucous sex scene breaks down the ceiling in an obvious soundstage, not to mention watching Ray beating up villainous minions with no grace or style whatsoever (Jim Kelly he's not). Everything that could go wrong, should go wrong yet surprisingly it all works out.
"Dolemite is My Name" is delirious fun, wackily written by Scott Alexander and Larry Karaszewski, both of whom penned the equally hilarious and inventive "Ed Wood" back in 1994. "Dolemite is My Name" would be the perfect double bill on low-budget, non-Hollywood filmmaking with "Ed Wood" - both films feature zanily enthusiastic filmmakers who want to entertain, at any cost. Whereas Ed Wood was a dubious creator who had an insane vision of the world, Ray Moore wants the audience to have a good time, to give them their money's worth. When he watches the premiere of the film with hundreds of spectators, he has the widest grin of self-satisfaction, reciting the dialogue to the crowd with a zeal that is contagious.
With a gallery of colorful supporting performances from the likes of Snoop Dogg, Chris Rock, Da'Vine Joy Randolph (truly a star in the making as a single mother who joins his crew), Craig Robinson and reliable pros like Bob Odenkirk as a film producer and a truly spry Wesley Snipes, "Dolemite is My Name" is purely engaging, foul-mouthed fun with a new spin on the oft-told filmmaking stories we have seen countless times before. If there is one thing I miss, it is those notable moments of truth that Eddie sometimes allows us to peer in. Still, let's not get too critical - Eddie Murphy is infectious, and so is the movie. Funny is his game once again.
What I remembered most about "Brainstorm" when I first saw it back in the 1980's on good old cable were the images of a car's point-of-view as it flew off the main road towards the mountain side. I also recall images of a man having sex with a woman, again from his point-of-view. These images were recorded in 70mm and, on video in the 80's, much of the image size was lost as was the impact. Nowadays, on Blu Ray and DVD, we can get the widescreen version we all richly deserve. Now as for the storytelling basics, "Brainstorm" is often stunning to look at yet dramatically inert and it shortchanges its initial ideas in favor of a rudimentary thriller format.
The idea is remarkable: a sophisticated technological headset allows one to view and record another person's sensations, visually and emotionally. There is something else it can do - it can directly tap into past emotional memories of said individual wearing the headset. The institute behind this amazing discovery has two brainiac scientists, Michael (Christopher Walken) and chain-smoking Lillian (Louise Fletcher). The head of the institute behind this research (Cliff Robertson) has other ideas on how to use this device, for military application of course and quite possibly brainwashing.
"Brainstorm" is shot on two different ratios, so that whenever we enter someone's subconscious via the headset, the film switches from 35mm to 70mm and it is richly detailed and amazing to behold. There is also a terrific montage of when Michael first met his estranged wife (Natalie Wood, sadly her last role and underused) as they talk about inventors like the Wright Brothers, their marriage, their happier times. At first, "Brainstorm" evolves with a sure hand as we discover what other facets lurk beneath such an inventive device - in the wrong hands, it can obviously be used for dastardly purposes. In another instance, without revealing who the character is, it can be used to record someone's death and thus the person viewing such a recording can suffer the same deadly symptoms unless they quickly switch off the controls. This is such an intriguing idea for a movie that unfortunately such mind-blowing concepts are never fully explored. "Brainstorm" decides to become a race-against-time thriller with the scientists against the powers-that-be and all emotional attachment to the characters and to the powerful device and its implications are shoved aside. It is about good scientists vs. a villainous military command - why resort to scenes of archaic robots running amok and computers destroying an institute while the bad guys are unable to enter the facilities?
I liked "Brainstorm" for the most part yet, during its concluding third act, there is a shaky abruptness and a hasty resolution that give us so little to contemplate (though the final scenes that show an almost death-like paralysis of one character is quite emotionally stirring). "Brainstorm" doesn't want to deal with the ethics and morality of such a scientific breakthrough - it assumes that the set up is enough along with some minor thrills. Intriguing to be sure but could have been so much more.
Let's get this out of the way immediately: "The Irishman" is not "GoodFellas" revisited nor is it close to the heart of "Mean Streets" or the excesses of "Casino." "The Irishman" is a different kind of mob film, it has an elegiac tone and a disquieting unease about itself. Whereas the earlier Martin Scorsese mob films focused on the rapturous allure and romantic, thrill-seeking pleasures of being a gangster, this film is more about the business model without any passion or yearning to be in that underworld. It is more stately and shows an even more insidious nature about the mob than Scorsese has shown before.
Based on Charles Brandt's fantastic and hotly debated book "I Heard You Paint Houses," we get the lead character Frank Sheeran (Robert De Niro), a Teamster and meat-packing truck driver and occasional contract killer for the Northeast Pennsylvania mob - he is a Hoffa man at heart. Once Sheeran meets with the calculating mob boss Russell Bufalino (Joe Pesci, exquisitely restrained), first at a gas station and then at a restaurant, the motions are set in - he is deeply entrenched in the mob and with the Teamsters. Sheeran moves quickly through powerful circles, introduced to hotheaded Jimmy Hoffa (an absolutely mesmerizing Al Pacino) who is naturally the Teamsters president. Hoffa is in a world of trouble with attorney general Robert Kennedy (Jack Huston), and is looking at jail time not to mention insulting a Teamster vice president in NJ and captain of the Genovese family, another hothead named Anthony "Tony Pro" Provenzano (Stephen Graham). The scenes between Hoffa and Tony Pro have an electrified tension, one accusing the other of racial slurs, lateness for a meeting, and the importance of wearing suits - it is both comical and furiously intense.
"The Irishman" unfolds at a leisurely pace with a series of flashbacks at its center, all told from the point of view of an older, sicker Sheeran at a nursing home. There is no breakneck pacing from the days of "GoodFellas" and no rock and roll soundtrack with the Rolling Stones - it is more sedate yet interest never flags (and we get far less showier soundtrack tunes in the style of Jerry Vale). The slower pacing and the lyrical rhythms may be Scorsese's own way of using Sergio Leone's gangster opus "Once Upon a Time in America" as its framework (both films starred De Niro and Pesci) though I think John Ford's own elegiac "The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance" could serve as its filmic antecedent - Ford looking back at the Western genre with tangible strokes of sadness and deglamorization could be how Scorsese views his own past revitalizing takes on the mob. Even more saddening is seeing how Sheeran, in his ailing years, picks his own coffin and where he should be buried while trying to reconnect with what's left of his family and failing miserably. He seems like a warm-hearted guy yet he is also a remorseless killer who is estranged from his daughters and never spends a whole lot of time at home. His one daughter, Peggy (played by Lucy Gallina as a young girl and Anna Paquin as an adult), sees a disturbing side to Sheeran, one day privately noticing him packing a gun before claiming he is off to work. Peggy has no real love for Russell either, yet she is all smiles as an adult around the charismatic Hoffa.
After "The Irishman" was over, I still did not get a firm handle on Frank Sheeran and maybe I am not meant to. Sheeran merely follows orders like the WWII soldier he once was, but never seems emotionally involved in anything. He has a look of concern over JFK's death, sensing Hoffa knows more than he is leading on. Sheeran is fiercely devoted to two men in his life, Russell and Hoffa, and one of them will be betrayed. Finally, he is isolated from the rest of the world in a nursing home and deservedly so. De Niro has a coolness, an indifference to the world around him as Sheeran - everything is business as usual under direct orders from the mob. Those of you looking for the sympathetic Henry Hill-type who is changed by his experiences in the mob despite loving the life will not find it in the remote Sheeran (though he is not as remote as the robotic Ace in "Casino"). One chilling scene, in retrospect, has Sheeran reassuring Hoffa everything is fine during a car ride - the tension is felt in every frame without heightening it one bit and we sense a subtle sense of regret from Sheeran. Ultimately "The Irishman" sends a fervent chill to the bone throughout its running time, eerily accompanied by the opening and closing strains of the Satins' song "In the Still of the Night." It removes the glamour and allure of the mob completely and tells us "it is what it is."
At the start of the overcooked though still fitfully fun "Aquaman," Nicole Kidman gets into a roller derby of action dynamics. Say what? You read that right, as Atlanna, the Queen of the underwater kingdom of Atlantis, she is found ashore at a lighthouse by its keeper, Thomas Curry (Temuera Derek Morrison). They live together and have a son named Arthur, who has a supersonic ability of communicating with ocean life. Before one looks too deeply at this prologue, Atlantean soldiers find Atlanna and they engage in hand-to-hand combat. The movie lays its eggs and the fish hatch a little too soon but hey, this is modern 2010 superhero moviemaking where moments can't be wasted by too much exposition...or too little.
How soon do the fish eggs hatch you may ask? When we first discover the adult Arthur aka Aquaman (Jason Momoa) not along after that opening, he lifts a hijacked submarine to the surface, engages in more hand-to-hand combat, throws people around like confetti, you get the idea. Everything is maximized to the 1 millionth power and though it is often exuberant to watch, it can be a bit mind-numbing in its excess. After a while, you hope for some measure of intimacy and some quiet place with John Krasinski.
Excess defines "Aquaman" - the movie ricochets from one extravagant, mind-blowing, visually detailed set piece to another. From the confines of a local bar to the rolling sand dunes of the Sahara, to the enormity of the Atlantis underwater world (which includes a giant octopus playing drums prior to a death match), to Sicily where just about every gift shop, restaurant and museum is virtually destroyed during another one of those extended fight sequences, to finally the lighthouse in the opening and closing scenes which looks more high-contrast in its picturesque quality than was probably required.
Simplicity is the not the middle name of Aquaman. He is strong, blustery and has a wink and an arched eyebrow to remind us that Momoa is in on the joke. The film is playfully tongue-in-cheek and has lots of comedic lines thanks to Momoa, my favorite being after Amber Heard's Atlantean princess jumps out of a plane without a parachute: "Redheads!"Speaking of Amber Heard, her flamingly-red-hot hair that might burn a man's hand off is its own character and she stands up well against Momoa. Dolph Lundgren as King of an Atlantean tribe and Willem Dafoe as Aqua's mentor are not terribly memorable yet they are adequate for what is required - I might have switched the roles and had Dafoe as the King and Lundgren as the mentor. Patrick Wilson as Aquaman's brother who has dastardly plans is not terribly convincing.
By the time the film concludes with a CGI underwater battle with an epic "The Lord of the Rings" vibe and Aquaman holding his prized Trident as if it was King Arthur's Excalibur, I got confused by which Kingdom was fighting whom (I am not going to get into specific tribe names but it seems as if there are hundreds). Too many sea creatures battling it out crowds the pleasure and joy from the far less busy action workouts earlier in the film (and that is putting it mildly). Occasionally there is the racist reference to Aquaman being a half-breed (a huge difference from the original comic-book) and it is given some heft by the Atlanteans (after all, can a half-breed rule Atlantis?) Momoa rules the film, though when he is knocking down beers with his dad, I felt more at home than in Atlantis.
You may know Beatrice Boepple as a younger Amanda Krueger from 1989's "Nightmare on Elm Street 5: The Dream Child." She confronts the evil of her wicked bastard son of a hundred maniacs, Freddy Krueger, helping the teen heroine (Lisa Wilcox) find a way of vanquishing the dream killer, at least till the next sequel. Unfortunately, Boepple never did get a chance to do a reprise. You might also recognize Beatrice from small roles in "Shoot to Kill" with Sidney Poitier, "Stakeout" with Richard Dreyfuss and some notable Canadian films where she played either a terrorist or a troubled girl. Still, it may surprise you to discover that Beatrice has also worked with Johnny Depp and a legend in her own right, oh, let's not spoil it here. Keep reading to find out who.
1.) How did you get the last name Boepple? Is it a German name and were one of your parents German?
Beatrice Boepple: My biological father was Paul Boepple, a Swiss choral director from Basil, Switzerland, which is in the Germanic region of Switzerland (as opposed to the French regions). So the surname Boepple is from the Swiss side of my family. However, since you asked, my maternal grandmother was German. Her family name was Schuchardt. She married my grandfather, Dau-Lin Hsu, who was Chinese, so I am a true mixed-breed, in my case, “Euro-Asian”!
2.) Was acting a major, passionate goal for you in life? Tell me about the origins of it, specifically if there were any theatre roles? I ask because the first role listed on IMDB is the 1986 TV series "The Beachcombers?"
BB: Acting was always a passion of mine. I performed in my very first play when I was 5 years old, living in Japan! I could not yet speak any Japanese, so they didn’t give me any lines. I played a lamb in a Nativity play they put on in my Japanese Kindergarten! After that, I always took part in my school plays, even winning the “best actress” trophy in middle school in Canada! When it came time to decide where to go for college, I was torn between Equestrian Schools to find a career working with horses, or an acting school. My local University, University of Victoria in BC Canada, had a great theatre department and was so much more affordable than Equestrian schools, so that is how I made my decision between my two passions. I did quite a lot of live theatre before landing my first paid TV role, which was "The Beachcombers," as you mentioned. I had done a number of commercials and radio dramas before that, but "Beachcombers" was my first TV gig, and I played the guest star in that iconic Canadian TV series. It sure taught me a lot about the power of editing, and the huge difference between stage and film – especially in close-ups!
Beatrice Boepple as Amanda Krueger in Nightmare on Elm Street: The Dream Child
3.) Getting the role of Amanda Krueger in "Nightmare on Elm Street 5: The Dream Child" must have been an exciting role, I mean you are playing the role of the mother of the most iconic 1980's slasher antihero of a very popular horror movie series. Who contacted you about the role, did you audition and were other actresses also up for the role? BB: When I was living in LA, I shared a lovely agent/manager who had a very small clientele consisting of myself, Martin Sheen, Charlie Sheen & Renee Estevez. This agent was the one that got me the audition for "NOES 5." She said that Stephen Hopkins was an up and coming director and that it would be a good career move to work with him. I went in to audition in front of Stephen, two of the producers and one of the writers. I have no idea who else was up for the role because they had me read Amanda’s lines, and we discussed the film and the role for quite a bit. I even sang for them, to show the spooky sound I could create and they ended up hiring me on the spot, which is the only time that ever happened in my career! You normally have to wait at least a few days, and come back for numerous call backs before landing a role (unless you are a big A list star, which, clearly I was not!). I have to be honest though… the sheer magnitude of what it meant to play the mother of such an icon of horror never really seeped in till years and years later. 4.) From what I recall, "Nightmare on Elm Street 5" was an extremely rushed production. It could not have been easy for you, especially the bloody birth scene uttering such lines (which you said with great conviction) like "That is no creature of God!"
BB: You are correct in that filming on #5 was extremely rushed! We had multiple sets and scenes being shot at the SAME TIME!! Re-writes were happening on a daily basis, almost hour to hour, and everyone was everywhere at once. But it was a blast! The cast members were so much fun to hang out with, the sets were so amazing to look at, and it was magical seeing how these fantastical scenes would all come together! My bloody birth scene was definitely bloody, to say the least. We had a cat hidden in a blanket that they used to portray baby Freddy when they first pull him out of me and he leaps out of the nun/nurses hands. I wasn’t yet a mother in real life at the time, so had never given birth, but I just recalled times of great physical challenge and pain, and I think it came out fairly realistically. We had a lot of fun filming it, fake blood and all!
Boepple in 1987's Stakeout
5.) Your other movie credits include roles in "Shoot to Kill" with Sidney Poitier and "Stakeout" with Richard Dreyfuss and Emilio Estevez. What were those experiences like, it is not like every actor gets to work with such renown actors like Poitier or playing Estevez's girlfriend?
BB: Getting to work with great actors is one of the highlights of my acting career. Getting to meet Sidney Poitier was wonderful, and I LOVED working with Richard Dreyfuss & Emilio Estevez. Both Richard & Emilio are so down to earth, warm and supportive. I played Emilio’s WIFE (not girlfriend) and we had such a hoot both on and off set. Mickey Rooney was another legend I got to work with (Beatrice played Kelly Haskins, the TV reporter, in "The (New) Adventures of the Black Stallion", season 2, episode #26 called "Ties that Bind" that aired in 1992 starring Rooney) but Katherine Hepburn, I must say, was the one actress I was privileged to work with, whom truly I felt star-struck with on set. But she, too, was so down to earth and lovely to work with. The project that I got to work with her on was a 1988 made-for-TV film titled "Laura Lansing Slept Here" where I played Ms. Hepburn's character's literary agent secretary. My scenes were cut, so I get no credit for that show. I might see if I can find the cut clips, if not long ago thrown away. It would just be amazing to have clips of myself working with Katherine... such a legend!
Yes, it was a true honor to have been able to work with so many great actors, but while the camera was rolling, it would always only be whatever character I was playing, interacting with whatever character they were playing. While the camera rolled, there was no distinction between the famous and the not famous. THAT only showed in the size of our dressing rooms and the extra treats some of us got! LOL!! 6.) I'll be honest, I never heard of the 1989 Canadian flick "Quarantine," (not an easy film to locate) what was that film all about since it is, I gather, your one main lead film role? The 1989 Canadian TV Movie "Matinee" was your sole TV lead role, correct?
Boepple in 1989's Quarantine
Boepple in 1989's Matinee
BB: The 1989 film "Quarantine" is a very low budget Canadian film, not to be confused by a film by the same name that came out in 2008. Taking the summary from IMDb: In a futuristic society being decimated by plague, a fascist movement seizes power and quarantines not only the plague victims, but anyone related to them. A Rebel trying to assassinate a particularly reactionary senator takes a computer programmer hostage, in an attempt to free her father who is a scientist trying to track and eradicate the disease. I play that rebel, and had such a blast getting to play the lead in that film. Unfortunately, the script was pretty weak, and the director & I weren’t on the same page as to how my character should be played. In the end, the way I portrayed her just didn’t really work. Funny though, that I find copies of that film in all sorts of foreign countries, each time with a totally different name. I guess that’s one way they got out of ever paying any of us a penny in residuals! "Matinee," oddly, was not a TV movie but a feature film, yet I see it listed as a made-for-TV movie all the time too. That also was a low budget Canadian film, and we filmed it right after I finished filming "Quarantine." I got to do those two films back to back. What a great year! I actually think it’s not a bad film. The actor who played my dad in it, Richard Davis, plays the Cigarette Smoking Man on the X-Files and the actor who played my boss in that show was Don Davis, who played Captain William Scully on the X-Files and Major General Hammond in "Stargate SG-1." These were both friends of mine, so working together was a real treat for us all!
7.) What role did you play on the TV series "21 Jump Street" considering you were appearing with another Elm Street alum, Johnny Depp? BB: I played the role of Kerri Munroe on Episode 9 of the first season. Kerri was a high school student, who’s class Johnny’s character joins, and he & I end up on the school’s Scholastic team that wins our way all the way to the championships. Though Johnny was very friendly to me, he seemed like a bored trouble maker, and I was frustrated by the pranks he kept playing on set. In hindsight, he must have been frustrated being cast in such a run-of-the-mill teen heart throb role where he didn’t have room to show his true, much richer acting chops, which we all have seen in his wide array of characters he has played ever since! 8.) Are you looking to return to acting in these visual mediums or in any other capacity?
BB: I have thought about returning to acting, in about 3 years or so, when my kids are all off to college. I would love to play a really scary, creepy old lady (or even an old man – the wonders of makeup & wigs! And chest binding, I suppose!). I’m looking forward to an age where I don’t have to worry about being the “pretty young thing”, and can focus 100% on just being GOOD! LOL!
9.) Aside from say a "dream" role such as a full-scale Amanda Krueger movie, what dream role would you have loved to have played in your career?
BB: Well, I am still alive (knock wood!) so we don’t need to keep it in past tense. What dream role would I LOVE to play? A really strong character that gets to really explore a wide range of emotion, and a character that somehow changes/grows within the film. I don’t care so much about the genera of the film; just that it is well written and the characters are multi-dimensional, as we all are! Anyone have a script for me?? 10.) Is it fun going to conventions and meeting fans, possibly 90 percent who know you as Amanda Krueger?
BB: My goodness YES!! I LOVE meeting fans. And Elm Street fans are so devoted and enthusiastic! It is purely the fans that have kept this franchise alive! If not for the fans, 90% of us who were in these films would be long-forgotten. It’s such a blessing to learn that work I’ve done so long ago has had such an impact on so many people, and to know that our work touched people’s lives. I only wish I got invited to more conventions! If any of you want to meet me in person for a chat, a photo, an autograph, get your friends and anyone you know to write to a convention you plan to go to, and do a writing campaign requesting me. THAT is how we get to these conventions. Fans, and/or awesome agents who plug their clients!
An R-rated comedy about marital affairs with the bright, classy movie star Natalie Wood uttering curse words and other obscenities! Yes, indeed. Though Natalie in the 1970's appeared in only a few TV movies and a forgettable dud like "Meteor," she always carried an edge of having lived a bitter , lonely existence. What is sweet about her role as a mother and wife who has a second sexual awakening in "The Last Married Couple in America" is that she sells the role, hook, line and sinker. The movie is hardly revolutionary in concept (it needed more tinkering in the screenplay department) yet it is really Natalie Wood and George Segal who bring the movie the comic energy it needs.
George Segal is Jeff, a successful architect who is happily married to Mari (Natalie Wood), a sculptor who works at home. They have three boys and a pleasant house in Beverly Hills. Jeff and Mari can't help but notice that their friends are divorcing, left and right. Every day, there is news of another divorce and it begins to affect Jeff and Mari (the couples all play football together and after a while, there is nobody left to play with). Jeff considers himself a saint when it comes adultery, yet Mari did have a past affair (nowadays, many of the Me Too movement will scoff at the fact that Jeff mentions that he slapped Mari after learning of the deceit). Before Jeff can discuss the "new morality" and act on it, he is bed hopping with not one but two women (an unrecognizable blonde vixen played by Valerie Harper who is insistent on jumping Jeff's bones, and naturally Priscilla Barnes). Jeff is infected with Gonorrhea ("The Clap?") and once Mari gets wind of his deceit, promptly asks for a separation and goes on her own affair with a younger man.
The film does go off course with the introduction of Dom DeLuise as a (breathe while you read this) porno actor who wants to stage a birthday party with hookers at Jeff's house! Why at Jeff's house when there are kids there I don't know but, then again, I would not be surprised. My parents were a swinging couple and, yes, Moral Majority please note, I was often in another room while activities occurred when I was not much younger than 11.
But enough digressions, "The Last Married Couple in America" is fitfully entertaining though it could've been sharper, deeper without a cop-out ending. Natalie considered it to be an update on one of her best films, "Bob, Carol, Ted and Alice," and I would agree yet that earlier film had a clearer emotional truth to it about sex and naked honesty. This film only parades around such issues without enough emphasis (though Wood has one heartbreaking scene where she complains about her pimple, the kids, her age and how a gas station is replacing a local market. You don't need more proof than that to know Natalie Wood always found a way to pull your heartstrings). Segal and Wood are a believable couple and there are enough crazy situational comic scenes to render the film a slight recommendation. To quote the classic film "Sullivan's Travels," it just needed a little more sex in it.
A mood of exacting noirish tones is set in motion right at the start of "Bad Times at El Royale." Some man enters a hotel, mostly in silhouette. He takes apart the floorboards and places a bag full of money under them. He covers it all back up, rather neatly, turns on the radio. Another man arrives at his room. He lets him in and BANG! My heart sank for a second watching this sequence, all told in a master shot, because blood splatters the lens (something that has become a tiresome cliche). My heart immediately sprang back to action when we hear on the soundtrack Edwin Starr's strains of "Twenty Five Miles" and immediately I knew this was going to be a decent crime flick. I had hoped for that until I realized midway through that "Bad Times at the El Royale" is actually a great crime movie, full of neatly developed plot twists, strong character types and a blazing energy throughout that slowly develops into a wallop of an ending. Oh, and the blood splatter? It makes sense later on.
Nothing is what it seems at the El Royale. A few customers arrive at this Lake Tahoe hotel, somewhere in the middle of nowhere and relatively inexpensive to boot, and are greeted by a bellboy who pretty much handles the whole darn hotel - there are no other staffers. The hotel is unusual in that a line cuts right through it, a line that separates Nevada from California (this makes for some complications about which room to board since smoking and gambling regulations apply). At first, I thought the movie was going to be more comical than serious because it could've mined the shenanigans involved in crossing the line at this hotel, when to get food and amenities, the unusual circumstances involving one solo staffer, etc. Alas, that is not to be because we see that nobody at this hotel is up to much good. Jon Hamm is presumably a vacuum cleaner salesman, Laramie, who remembers when the hotel was kicking with activity, though he is not what he seems. Laramie investigates and rips out listening devices from his room and ventures into a forbidden back room section where we can eavesdrop every room (there are two-way mirrors). Next we have the arrival of forgetful Father Daniel Flynn (Jeff Bridges) who often stands still unsure of where he is; an ex-soul singer named Darlene Sweet (Cynthia Erivo from Broadway's "Color Purple") who has encountered sexism, racism and a whole lot more, and a mysterious woman (Dakota Johnson) who writes an obscenity instead of her name on the guest list who also brings along a bound girl from her own trunk! The bellboy also passes out occasionally after ingesting heroin - not exactly the staffer of the year.
Laramie is not the only one with secrets, practically every other character harbors some well-kept secret. In almost a labyrinthian (with sanguine tones) variation on "Ten Little Indians," we begin to wonder who is really interested in that duffel bag of money and what some of the motivations are behind these characters. It may not be much of a surprise to discover that Father Flynn is not really a priest, but what motivates Darlene Sweet to commit the violent action she perpetrates against him? Why is Laramie so interested in the hotel's surveillance? What about a mysterious reel of 16mm film in the bellboy's sleeping quarters? And how about the virulent Chris Hemsworth who appears as a Manson-like cult leader as he is summoned by the young girl who is bound to a chair in Dakota's room? So many questions.
"Bad Times at the El Royale," directed by Drew Goddard ("The Cabin in the Woods"), is 2 hours and 21 minutes and every minute is packed with tension, humor, unexpected surprises and pathos. With a killer soundtrack that conveniently plays on the main floor of the hotel's jukebox, the film unfolds at a swift though never hurried pace. The performances muster just enough emotion and nuance to get the plot rolling along. Bridges towers above them all and his final scenes with Erivo are amazingly powerful. Ditto the casting of Cailee Spaeny as the bound girl who could easily pass for a Manson Girl - her character is memorably stoic and terrifying. Jon Hamm exudes a lot of the expected charm of a typical 60's salesman - hey, he's got the look down pat especially if you remember TV's "Mad Men."
Though the film is nothing new technically, it is patterned (aside from an echo of "Ten Little Indians") after Quentin Tarantino's own crime oeuvre with a dash of the Coen Brothers from the "Barton Fink" days. Tarantino lately has not been packing much of a punch but who cares - "Bad Times at El Royale" shows a lot more flair and an acute sense of itself without overplaying its hand. That is more than I can say for Tarantino who can push the running time of his films beyond what our patient butts can handle. Goddard packs it in tightly. What a roller coaster ride of a noir movie.
Despite the occasional dead spots, "Splitting Heirs" is one diverting oddball comedy that flashes by quickly yet it never elicited anything more than the mildest chuckles from me. I recommend the movie for its sheer liveliness and infectious spirit but I am not sure I found it that funny and yet, and yet, I cannot completely dismiss it.
Eric Idle is a far too polite banker who is unaware he is the heir to Bournemouth royalty (he was left alone as a baby in a restaurant by his father, a British Lord, and there was an accidental switcheroo with another tot). Rick Moranis is the impostor, the other baby, the heir to Bournemouth as the 15th Duke though he is unaware he's an impostor. Add an attractive sexpot of a mother to Moranis (Barbara Hershey though she is the actual mother to Idle), a social-climbing beauty like Catherine Zeta-Jones who wants to be duchess and the "introduction" of John Cleese and you've got the madcap lunacy of a Monty Python comedy. Alas, not so. The various attempts by Idle to kill Moranis will make you smile, but that is all (the helium-filled scuba gear is hilarious though). Many scenes will make you smile, and some will make you groan but there is nothing here that is laugh-out-loud funny. It's got the cast and occasional humorous situations of an anarchic comedy but not the attitude.
Cleese is hysterical every time he appears as an amoral, homicidal lawyer - a bigger role in this mild state of comic affairs would've benefited the proceedings. "Splitting Heirs" is a movie you can't possibly dislike because it is charming and inoffensive. You also can't hate a movie for featuring a car that completely flips over and is carried along by bicycle tires! Yet with such a diverse comic cast of characters, "Splitting Heirs" is only content in being content with itself.
The "Halloween" series has held a certain fascination with me, I suppose, because every harebrained sequel had the potential to transcend its slasher film cliches. It is easy to forget that the original 1978 shocker, "Halloween," was shocking because of its claustrophobic atmosphere that assumed something more supernatural than the surface reality of another horror thriller about a masked killer (this was before slasher was applied to a disreputable genre where slashing teens became the focus). The young high-school students had a cloud of ambition about them - they were not just disposable, bubble-gum brained girls who had nothing but sex and Mary Jane on their minds (though of course that is mostly what they talk about). There was something cheerfully innocent about them, not knowing what horror awaits. That coupled with the obsessed psychiatrist, Dr. Loomis (Donald Pleasance), who sensed dread was on its way with his runaway patient and mute killer himself, Michael Myers, and an ending that still sends shivers down my spine. None of the sequels matched the original in any aspect but I kept hoping. "Halloween," which arrived in 2018 with no Roman Numerals, discards all sequels and is a purposely direct descendant of the original. Unfortunately, despite some of its strengths, it is occasionally a run-of-the-mill sequel.
Silver-haired Laurie Strode (Jamie Lee Curtis) is back, though now she is an embittered woman and survivalist living in a gated house that is more like a death trap. She is awaiting the day that Mikey Myers escapes and comes after her - she wants to kill him for good and ever. Of course, during a transition to another mental institution by bus, Mikey kills everyone and escapes on Halloween night, eager to obtain his famous William Shatner mask and kill, kill, kill. One truly astounding sequence filmed in an unbroken take has Michael entering two different houses where he acquires a hammer and a knife and brutally kills a couple of unsuspecting women. This sequence reminds one of the haunting sense of menace that Michael has - he lurks, hides in the shadows, and pounces when least expected. It is amazing that nobody has captured that sense of evil in so long. There is also a sequence involving a young kid on a lawn as the lights go off and on and Michael slowly approaches his prey.
"Halloween" has a strong opening with an exacting purpose, that is two British journalists with a podcast who want to interview Laurie Strode and find out what Michael Myers tick. Unfortunately, these characters quickly evaporate and we get an elongated, frustratingly dull excursion into Laurie's granddaughter, Allyson (Andi Matichak), and her escapades with a cheating boyfriend at a Halloween rave party - you'll feel you have entered some teenage rom-com for a minute. We also get a silly inclusion of a Dr. Loomis-type psychiatrist, Dr. Sartain (Haluk Bilginer), who is a little too taken with Michael. On a positive note there is the vivid presence of Will Patton as a frustrated police officer who's on screen for what regrettably amounts to nothing more than a cameo. What I imagine a lot of fans expected, myself included, was the solid return of Laurie Strode and her revenge for what Mikey did to her friends 40 years earlier. Jamie Lee Curtis has such a remarkable turn as Laurie, full of pathos and nuanced with grief over the years she prepared herself and her family for the inevitable (Judy Greer is given short-shrift as her daughter), and yet she is confined to only a few select scenes. What we mostly get are anonymous teens who are set up for a slaughterhouse and, sure, all they care about is sex and some Mary Jane but the characters are more bloodless than animated. Putting it simply, there are no P.J. Soles personalities on hand here - the resurrected pumpkin during the opening credits has more personality.
I am not completely turned off by this "Halloween" sequel/reboot because there are a few scares, some choice moments for Jamie Lee Curtis and a chilling, suspenseful finish. Michael Myers is still depicted as a mysterious phantom of sorts with a precision-like method of killing, sans all the ridiculous psychological insights from Rob Zombie in his remakes. And yet if the filmmakers (including director and writer David Gordon Green along with co-writer Danny McBride) kept their focus on Laurie and less on the mad psychiatrist and all those disposable teens, we might have had an amazing sequel instead of some serviceable reboot.
I am not a big fan of gross-out comedies, particularly teenage gross-out comedies a la "Porky's" or the "Animal House" variety. Somehow, the idea that teenagers having nothing more on their heads than sexual promiscuity is not very appetizing. Well, sure, I was once a teenager myself, during the
Republican 80's, and I did think about sex, but there were other things on my mind too. "American Pie" is about teens in the 90's, sharing their zestful quest for losing their virginity on prom night. But I am convinced that sex is not the only preoccupation facing teens of America.
Nevertheless, the film's opening sequence is a classic piece of raunchy humor. Jim (Jason Biggs) is watching a porno channel that is barely registering on the cable channel. But the channel's soundtrack is unmistakably clear, as Jim fondles himself until his parents enter the room and are horrified by his
hormonal desires. He gets comical, expert advice from his father (hilariously played by Eugene Levy), who buys him all the porno mags he needs to understand sex. Still, Jim's curiosity gets to him when he is told that sex feels like "warm, apple pie."
Jim is not the only teen in high school hung up on sex - so are all his buddies, mostly lacrosse players. One player (the winsome Chris Klein from "Election") is not all he's cracked up to be, and feels that he has real sensitivity. He woos an intelligent choir girl (Mena Sevauri), who is taken by
his willingness to sing just to get close to her.
The Jerry Lewis-like Jim may not just be interested in sex, but he has a predilection for its orgasmic innuendoes. In a triumphantly classic scene, Jim broadcasts his bedroom antics with a sexy foreign exchange student on the Internet. Only problem is that he is not aware this is being broadcast to the
whole high school community! Jim struts barechested while the voluptuous female gets aroused by a skin magazine, and all the immature high-schoolers howl with laughter.
"American Pie's" saving grace is that some of these kids are made to seem human, unlike the cardboard cartoon characters of "Animal House" or any other horny teen flick from the late 80's starring Corey Feldman. No, these kids are sweet and human and, uh, oh, sensitive! Jim's one line about how a nerdy, talkative band player (Alyson Hannigan) has something else to talk about
besides sex pretty much sums up the sensitivity factor. Naturally. it turns out she wants to use Jim because of his lusty, Net activity. Jason Biggs, Chris Klein and Mena Sevauri at least seem to come from the real world of teenagers, but the burning question remains: is there more to life in high school than sex? If you have seen "Election" or went to high school, you may be compelled
Michael Douglas playing an idealistic judge who can't combat the L.A. judicial system that allows criminals to get off scot-free after committing heinous murders sounds like a promising idea. Even more promising is the idea of an idealistic judge who unethically decides to secretly play judge and jury with a group of other judges - that sounds almost inspired. Call it Judge With a Death Wish except it is Douglas and a few other judges playing Charles Bronson. Call it whatever you want yet "The Star Chamber" is one of the few seemingly inspired movies that quickly becomes so tiredly uninspired.
The problem is the undernourished screenplay by Roderick Taylor and Peter Hyams (who also directed) that becomes dependent on contrivance. For one, Douglas's Judge Hardin is mostly left on the sidelines, wondering if he can continue to play by the rules of the L.A. court system that lets murderers go (thanks to some very able defendant lawyers who can determine that placing garbage in a garbage truck can't be evidence obtained without necessitating a warrant before the trash is scooped into the truck compartment!) At first, the idea of a crooked judicial system (which was nothing new even in 1983) is intriguing because we sense Hardin's disillusionment and frustration. Everything becomes suspended on a tangled web for Hardin when the father of the one of the murdered boys (James Sikking) attempts to shoot the freed killers only to wound a guard instead. After that same father commits suicide (and another kid is found murdered in a similar fashion), Hardin reluctantly joins a star chamber, a group of judges that meet at Judge Caulfield's house (Caulfield is played by that most reliable actor, Hal Holbrook) to kill selective freed criminals with the aid of a professional hit man.
But it is precisely at this point that "The Star Chamber" falls apart completely. Hardin joins the Star Chamber, okays every hit, and then is wracked with guilt. Over what, his complicity or that he can't shoot the criminals himself or that this secret chamber is the wrong approach? Hard to say because Michael Douglas's performance is so subdued to the point of nonexistence - he comes alive in the latter third of the film when he tries to warn two despicable killers that the chamber wants their blood. Yeah, okay, as if this scenario makes any sense - it is completely contrived. Why bother warning the cold-blooded killers when he may be thinking of dismantling the chamber anyway? Douglas and his Hardin character are so aloof in this film that I never intuitively felt the character possessed any moral right to rectify the abuses within and outside the judicial system. He is the same indifferent sourpuss from beginning to end - watching Michael Douglas's moody character can be an endurance test. So is "The Star Chamber."
It is not often that a film about a few middle-aged women in the middle of sunlit vineyards talking about love, life and wine can inspire anyone. With former SNL alums engaged in much banter and slowly serving as a support group for each other, men may hesitantly approach "Wine Country," Netflix's new film. Eradicate all hesitation: "Wine Country" is deliriously funny and contains moments of real humanity. I will not call it the female version of Alexander Payne's "Sideways" but who needs to - it exists on its own honest terms and both films couldn't be further apart in comparison.
A getaway to Napa Valley is planned to a tee by organizing whiz Abby (Amy Poehler) where all her pals (who used to work at a Chicago pizzeria) are gathered to celebrate Rebecca's 50th birthday (she's played by Rachel Dratch). They get to stay inside a rented beautiful house with a sumptuous view of the countryside while sipping wine. Sounds perfect, well, only if these women were generic and bland with no ambitions or drive. Thankfully that is not the case as we are introduced to Catherine (Ana Gasteyer, one of the more underappreciated presences on TV and film), who longs for her phone and business opportunities though the cell reception is not 100%; Val (Paula Pell), a boisterous single woman with a new knee looking for a new missus; Naomi (Maya Rudolph), who desires this time the most, away from her children, and finally grumpy Jenny (Emily Spivey, who co-wrote the film) who loves to sing along to pop tunes but, heaven forbid, any Quentin Tarantino movie soundtracks - she had to coerced into going on this trip.
Most of "Wine Country" has a rhapsodic looseness to it, almost the feeling of disconnected episodes that are not meant to converge in any unifying way until the end. That is the beauty and warmth of it, the innate feeling of closeness to women who you would definitely want to spend a day with (and in what better place than the wonders and endless vineyards of Napa Valley). None of the characters are unappealing or unlikable - they are a more-or-less spirited group who all have emotional issues in their current separate lives yet when they are together, it takes a while before they admit their hangups. That is crucial to the film's success - they are great friends that learn to value their friendship so as to not to lose what they had. Whatever exists in their own world now, they accept and move on as only they can. We see a lot of movies about teens and twentysomethings learning those same valuable lessons yet seeing middle-aged women engaged in them is a rare and welcome opportunity.
There is much to like and admire in "Wine Country." I love the scene where Naomi and Jenny walk in a vineyard where they are not supposed to be, walk away, then walk back awkwardly and then walk away again; the moment of realization that Val's interest in a part-time waitress and graphic artist (who has a Warhol penchant for Fran Drescher) is not mutual; an elongated take where Abby considers having sex with Jason Schwartzman's cook/chauffeur character; Tina Fey as the house owner who has seen everything, and the sad shenanigans of Rebecca whose back goes out on her and spends an entire night laying flat on the floor, carefully considering her marriage. There is also much tomfoolery involving rolling down a hill and drinking wine at various wine-tasting soirees without caring about the nuances of flavors. See, not quite at all like "Sideways" where nuance of wine-tasting was everything.
"Wine Country" is delightful and humanely funny (thanks to writers Spivey and Liz Cackowski) with a sparkling cast that brims and bubbles along with the visual charms of Northern California. I would not call this film vividly great yet, so far, I cannot imagine a more entertaining film in all of 2019.
The toughest thing to do in a filmed biography is to capture someone's essence and their heart. Some films, like "The Aviator," "The Doors" or "The Great White Hope," capture the essence but not necessarily (or intentionally) the heart. I can live with either or both. What is unusual about James Mangold's "Walk the Line" is that it captures the essence and the heart of Johnny Cash beautifully, yet I think essence is all we really want from the Man in Black.
The film begins in Dyess, Arkansas in 1944 as we witness Cash's early years with his brother, his stern father (Robert Patrick) and mother (Shelby Lynne), living on a cotton farm. Johnny's elder brother dies in an unfortunate accident involving a buzz saw, and his father forever blames John for it (the circumstances today still remain a mystery). Flash forward to Germany as an older Johnny (Joaquin Phoenix) enlists in the Air Force and writes a couple of songs while stationed there (one of them being "Folsom Prison Blues," which is inspired by a documentary he watched called "Inside the Walls of Folsom Prison").
Meanwhile, Johnny Cash heads back to Tennessee, marries his first wife Vivian (Ginnifer Goodwin), has children, but can't seem to cut it as a door-to-door salesman. Still, his dreams lay in a singing career as he forms a band called "The Tennessee Two" with two mechanics. His wife is none too pleased but Johnny Cash's career skyrockets after cutting a demo at Sun Records, and the rest is history. But his newfound fame really takes off when he meets June Carter (Reese Witherspoon), a young dynamo of a singer from country royalty in good old Memphis. This sparks a friendship and love that endures more detours than you'll find at the Long Island Expressway.
During the course of Johnny Cash's early years as a singer, specifically from the 1950's to the late 1960's, he gets addicted to amphetamines, divorces Vivian, goes on endless tours with June and the band, and drinks and grows a nasty temper (in one intense moment, Johnny tears a bathroom sink from the wall.) In the end, all he wants is June Carter's love but receiving is a battle all its own.
Joaquin Phoenix is phenomenal as Johnny Cash, showing the singer's dependency on speed, his desperate need not to be separated from June Carter, his violent outbursts, and his eerie calmness when talking to his formerly abusive and drunk father. Phoenix also does something else - he shows
Cash's boundless energy on the stage that is truly electrifying to watch. You'll forget that you are watching Mr. Phoenix on stage (he sang all the vocals). What is most stirring is seeing how easily you can be seduced by the music. When he asks June to sing "Time's A Wastin'," despite her objections, you see how easily she goes along with it - you can't help but be seduced by Johnny's charm.
Reese Witherspoon gives her best performance since "Election," demonstrating an alarming sense of vitality. I say alarming because Witherspoon basically jumps off the screen with her
sweet singing voice, her smarts, her wit, her dynamic enthusiasm and her love for Cash whom she is waiting to mature (basically, to walk the line). Both Witherspoon and Phoenix have incalculable chemistry but it is Witherspoon who shows what a real force of nature she is - she is a tornado
that practically wipes Phoenix off the screen. Even in her small moments, particularly when criticized for her past marriages by an unlikely fan, Witherspoon is as watchable a presence as any young actress.
James Mangold ("Girl Interrupted") does more than a serviceable job as director - he revitalizes the biographical musical genre. And in doing so, he also trims the typical narrative fat that makes up most bios to narrowly focus on the developing relationship between Johnny and June. You must understand that "Walk the Line" is not intended to be insightful about Johnny's relationship to music - only to the woman who emotionally supported him till the end.
Sometimes a phrase says it all. There is a line that Cash's father says during an uneventful Thanksgiving dinner. He tells his son that Jack Benny's house was bigger than Johnny's.
How does his father know this? He saw it on TV. Cash may have had a smaller house but he will always be bigger than Jack Benny. And it is his June Carter Cash who made that possible. R.I.P Johnny and June.
I watched "Home Again" with the pretense that it was nothing more than a garden variety rom-com with Reese Witherspoon walking through a well-traveled path of cliches with more than the usual music-video montages. Every move would be anticipated, every moment calculated to its zenith point. What is different from the norm is watching the high energy of Reese Witherspoon who clearly is better than the stale mediocrity written for her.
I suppose there is potential here for an interior decorator and mother of two daughters (not to mention the daughter of a famous fictional Cassavetes-like film director), Alice (Witherspoon), having an affair with an ambitious twentysomething film director, Harry (Pico Alexander). What I was not keen on was watching this souffle of a film director bring his two filmmaking buddies to live in Alice's guest house! That plot point by the way is about as nervy and messy as the film gets. Alice's daughters are adorable, I suppose, yet unmemorable. The two buddies, George (an ambitious screenwriter) and Teddy (an ambitious actor), start participating in Alice's daily activities, including picking up the daughters from school and theatre rehearsals, cooking meals, etc. What are we watching here? What about the romantic fling between Alice and Harry who walks around shirtless on occasion? This fling is so devoid of heat or romantic sparks that it is difficult to see any attraction other than sexual (which, of course, this being a PG-13 flick, the sex is minimal to almost nonexistent).
I must wonder about Alice's philandering father, a film director no doubt modeled on the late John Cassavetes. Why is this subplot given short-shrift? Even Candice Bergen who plays Alice's mother looks a lot like Gena Rowlands, Cassavetes's wife. Considering we have three budding filmmakers living in Alice's house (formerly her father's), why not stir the imagination about their filmmaking interests since Alice's father is one of their inspirations without focusing on old sitcom setups?
The movie is like a parade of moments we have seen a million times before. "Home Again" has no consistent unifying motion - it is a series of photo shoots where every actor looks prettified beyond belief thanks to lighting that comes from 10,000 watt bulbs. The dialogue is stale at best (a confrontation between Alice and her boss is handled like a sitcom situation without the laugh track) with no real interest in personality, depth or spontaneity. Witherspoon (and Michael Sheen who briefly appears as her ex-husband) give this movie a lift but it needs more than a crane - it needs a new construction crew.
When I first saw the perversely entertaining Bruce Lee biopic "Bruce Lee: The Man, The Myth" on TV back in 1983, I was excited about an unexpected renaissance: Bruce Lee might come back. Towards the end of the film, a theory is proposed that Bruce Lee not only faked his untimely death at the age of 32 but that he would return in 1983 as Southeast Asia was awaiting his return. Of course, that was not to be since Lee really did die. If he had been a recluse, he might have returned sooner had he known his name would be exploited in so many cheap, amateurish Bruceploitation flicks ready to cash in on his name, his legacy. "Bruce Lee: The Man, The Myth" is one of the better flicks (though clearly cheaply produced) and it distinguishes itself by paying some measure of tribute to the late martial arts master. Of course, it is about as fictionalized as you can imagine.
Bruce Li (aka Ho Chung Tao, James Ho) plays the iconic Lee, from his days of training with his master Yip Man, to his San Francisco days in college where he would perform tricks with students such as grabbing a coin from someone's hand in lightning fashion, to various challenges from many different martial-arts fighters while operating his own martial-arts school, to his days on the set of his famous films ("The Big Boss" shows some of the same actors from that film) where he was consistently challenged by fighters who thought he was all show and not a real fighter. Bruce Lee has to continue to prove himself as he trains harder and harder, then starts developing headaches and then he dies, though the film suggests there may have been more to his death than a simple ingestion of a painkiller.
If you have never read a book about Bruce Lee, then you might accept some of the biographical material as fact: please don't! For one, the various fight challenges he endures in this film are hogwash (only 3 to the best of my collection are probable, though none resemble what is on display here). Though there is a mention of Lee's dismissal of karate or any style as inferior to his Jeet Kune Do, there is no real discussion other than lines such as "Kung-Fu is!" Well, that settles that debate. Bruce Lee, a philosopher at heart, would've expounded on such issues. Also, I am not sure his strict protein diet included a piece of chocolate but I can't say for sure.
"Bruce Lee: The Man, The Myth" has the likable Bruce Li at its center who captures the legend in most of his glory, including the mischievous smiles. Li is also a hell of a charismatic fighter though he doesn't quite capture the balletic grace, the hesitation in Bruce Lee's fighting skills - the initial reluctance to fight is what made Bruce Lee more positively human than any one-dimensional clone. Of course, there is only one Bruce. The actress Lynda Hirst (her sole role) who plays Linda Lee, Bruce's wife, is uncanny though she barely has any lines. The movie itself is a fun, if sloppily made, chop-socky flick - just don't take it as gospel.
I hated some teachers in high school but not enough to kidnap them so that I could get a higher grade enabling me to become valedictorian (my grade-point average was a mere 85%). By all accounts, "Teaching Mrs. Tingle" should be a disastrous offering yet I was quite thrilled by it. It is bouncy, consistently edgy and humorous. Class, listen and take notes.
The titled character, Mrs. Tingle (maliciously and authoritatively played by Helen Mirren), is one tough, no-holds-barred teacher. When she is grading the students' final projects, she is perfectly blunt and concise. Even one of the top students in Tingle's class, Leigh Ann Watson (Katie Holmes), who has created an ambitious project on the Salem witch trials (complete with a leather-bound diary), fails to attract the slightest interest in the teacher. Watson gets a C for her efforts, which may prevent her from getting valedictorian status. She wants to appeal the grade but thanks to her friends,
Jo Lynn (Marisa Coughlan) and her supposed boyfriend, Luke (Barry Watson), they inadvertently stick a copy of the upcoming final exam in her knapsack! Guess who notices this grossly unethical practice! Now Watson and company have to convince the teacher in her own home that she is not guilty. Before you know it, the nasty, confrontational, far too honest Mrs. Tingle is bound to her bed
by her own students! How on earth will they ever convince anyone of their own innocence, especially Watson?
Okay, so this screenplay by Kevin Williamson ("Scream") is as farfetched as they come. Excepting scenes of Tingle's gentleman caller and Jo Lynn's reenactments from "The Exorcist," most of "Teaching Mrs. Tingle" moves along with the expected jolts and the swift camera moves of any thriller post-"Scream." What differentiates it from the norm are the truisms regarding the characters (there is actually more dialogue here than in the average "Scream" knockoff). Mrs. Tingle consistently plays mind tricks on her captors, even turning them against themselves. She believes that Watson is trying to steal Jo Lynn's boyfriend, Luke, and gets Jo Lynn to even despise Watson. After
all, why should Jo Lynn do all the hard work of bringing Tingle tea and food? How come Luke and Watson always leave together to keep authorities and the school at bay? There is also the sneaky theory that Tingle hates Watson and had planned for Watson to fail getting the coveted Valedictorian award. So should we trust these kids or should we be on Tingle's side? The fact that writer
Williamson keeps us on our toes, trying to guess what will happen next, is what makes the film work as a real thriller full of unpredictable surprises.
The best surprise is watching Helen Mirren convey every ounce of Mrs. Tingle's regret, humanity, hurtfulness and pain. In the beginning, we see her as a monster. By the end, you'll feel some sympathy for her. Mirren never aims for any exaggerated mannerisms or incredulous emotions. She manages to be both sincere and menacing and plays both ever so delicately.
Couglan's Jo Lynn has some worthy moments, though she is a dolt next to Holmes' Watson. And Watson's Luke is a Skeet Ulrich wanna-be, minus the goatee. Katie Holmes really takes the cake for standing on her own next to the titanic presence of Helen Mirren. And it is always an indisputable pleasure to see Molly Ringwald in any movie!
"Teaching Mrs. Tingle" was criticized for its violence in the wake of the tragedy at Colombine (Original title was "Killing Mrs. Tingle"). It is a shame because the movie and the events are about as similar as shock-rocker Marilyn Manson is to Senator Joe Lieberman. The critics should take a lesson from Mrs. Tingle and learn the meaning of irony.
Let's be honest: "Thirteen Ghosts" is a bad movie but it is so cheerfully over-the-top and so intent on at least trying to scare the bejesus out of you that it succeeds. It succeeds on the marginal level of pseudo-horror entertainment.
Based on the original 1960 William Castle production, the movie begins with a math teacher, Arthur (Tony Shalhoub), who learns he is inheriting an elaborate glass house from his late Uncle Cyrus (F. Murray Abraham). It is completely made of glass, right down to the corridors, hallways, walls, etc.
Arthur now has a second chance in his life after losing his wife in an accident. Needless to say, there is more than meets the eye in this house where enclosed spirits start going raving mad and attack with no provocation. There are twelve lost spirits in this house, all kept encased by the late Cyrus who was some sort of ghost hunter, and who has turned this house into a diabolical machine where the dead rule the house.
"Thirteen Ghosts" is the latest in the ironic horror comedies where winks outdo real scares. If your cup of scary tea is to see ghosts in gory makeup every few minutes, then this is the movie for you. They show up out of nowhere and sometimes they run with great velocity, always aiming to make the audience jump. My cup of tea is the imaginative hauntings of "The Others" where mood and atmosphere tweak our nerves more so than endless ghostly manifestations but what do I know. It is not a terrifying film experience but it does have some spooky scenes.
The performances hit the right notes, particularly Matthew Lillard (a real scream in "Scream") as Rafkin, a former employee of Cyrus whose job is to save Arthur and his family from the deadly ghosts. I also liked F. Murray Abraham's few choice scenes where he literally chews up the scenery. Shannon Elizabeth as Arthur's daughter is hardly given anything of value to do, but she is one hell of a good screamer. I also like the housekeeper who is given her share of one-liners.
Nicely shot and well-choreographed scenes, not to mention well-executed scares and superb make-up jobs, make most of "Thirteen Ghosts" fun to watch. It is a Saturday night rental for sure, just do not mistake it for real horror.
